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August 8th, 2004


betterthanmindy
07:37 am - Yay
I have decieded to join and here is my first post. I'm going to start a story off the top of my head, sorry if it isn't perfect.


One day a young girl was getting ready to see her grandma with her mom and dad. This young girl had brown hair, green eyes and stood about to her dads broad shoulders who seemed to her was a million feet tall. Her name was Annabelle Marie, but most called her Anna for short.
Tomorrow was her first day of 6th grade and she was so excited to be able to share that with her grandma. She had just finished tying a beautiful red ribbon in her hair when the phone rang. Her mother sort of sulked into the room Annabelle was standing in.
Annabelle asked "Momma, whats wrong?".
She looked at her Mother with a frown, knowing something wasn't right.
Her mother replied calmly "That was a call from your grandmama's nursing home. They called to tell us today was a bad day to visit."
"No!" shouted Annabelle, "I have to talk to her! I have to see her!".
"But Darling, you can't." said her mother trying to calm her down, "You knew grandmama's health wasn't that great honey. It's just not one of her best days.".
Annabelle ran out the front door crying and to the nearest bus station.


(Now you finish the story the way you want it to end.)
Current Mood: accomplished

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June 17th, 2004


virtuaalivalo
08:30 pm - The Cleaning of the Attic (fantasy, adventure)
(Please forgive me for any clumsiness and wrong choices of words you may perceive in my text, for English is not my native language, not even close to it. I am here because I want to practice my skills and any comments you may have are most welcome.)


The Cleaning of the Attic

It was Wednesday morning. Outside, it was raining. I could hear the raindrops drumming on the windows of my late grandmother's house as I climbed the old, creaky stairs up to the attic of the ancient building.

When I reached the door leading to the attic, I stopped for a while. This was it, then. I had promised to go and see what was there in the attic, take out all the stuff and sort it. You see, my grandmother - who had always been considered quite an eccentric person - had died half a year ago, leaving her house empty, and last week someone had finally offered to buy the place. We - my relatives and I - had cleaned all the other parts of the house and all that was left now was the attic.

The attic had always had a certain kind of scary and strange feel to it, since grandmother would allow no-one to enter it and the door leading into it had always been locked. No explanations had ever been made as to why this was so: it was just one of those facts of life that we all had had to accept. Now that I was holding in my hand the heavy iron key that had been found along with grandmother's will I felt somehow reluctant to use it. What had grandmother been hiding all these decades? Had I enough courage to go in and find out?

I took a deep breath, inserted the key into the lock and turned. There was a loud click. I pushed the door open enough to admit me into the large, dusty chamber beyond. I had brought a lantern with me because there was no electricity in this part of the house. I lit the lantern and looked about me...

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